


Way Back When

by Nejinee



Series: These Streets 'verse [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Beefy Bucky, Cop Steve, First Time, Flashback, Humor, Internalized Homophobia, Law Enforcement, M/M, Pining, Sexual Tension, steve is a sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:02:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: Let's go back to when Police Officer Steve Rogers was settling into his new job at his new precinct. Back when he met Sam Wilson, his partner, and Bucky Barnes, his achilles heel.





	Way Back When

**Author's Note:**

> For new folks: this is part 4 in a series. It might help if you [started at the beginning](http://archiveofourown.org/series/781374), but I'm just a text post, not your boss. :)

 

* * *

** 22 months ago **

* * *

 

 

“So it’s Rogers, right?” the slightly shorter, handsome man said, nodding.

“Yeah, hi again,” Steve murmured, leaning in for a handshake. “Sam…Wilson?”

“Got it in one,” the man chuckled. This was the second time they were meeting, now that they’d been officially reassigned. “So you’re pretty new and shiny lookin’ what with the trim cut and clean face.” Sam had a good smile, friendly and approachable. “Wasn’t sure why Chief had me with the new guy until I saw you came out from Washington, where I’m from.”

“Oh, hey, great,” Steve smiled. “Fancy that.”

“And,” Sam went on with a crook of his brow, “You look all white bread innocent, but I hear you are _not_ fresh out of the academy. Silly me, huh?”

Steve shook his head and smiled wryly, “I get that a lot, trust me. My old partner swore I’d lied about my age the whole time we worked together. Been working beat a few years now. Graduated in Columbia Heights. I’d always planned on coming home and, well, yeah. So now I’m here,” he shrugged, “It’s good.”

Sam snorted and slapped Steve on the shoulder in a way that showed how familiar he could get with people, real fast, “You say that now, but just you wait. These streets are a little meaner than up on the hill.”

“Yeah,” Steve rubbed at his hair, “I didn’t really expect otherwise.”

 

* * *

“So this is where the junkies congregate nowadays,” Sam sighed, leading Steve behind the nursery and lumber yard. “We get a few calls a week to come down here and check out unresponsive or disruptive cases. EMTs know almost everyone by name, so you know,” he nodded one way. “There used to be a safe injection site at the end of the lane, but budget cuts had it gone in six months.”

Steve frowned and pushed back his police hat. “Did you see any improvement with the injection site? We were looking into implementing some in Washington, maybe run a few test sites…”

Sam sucked on his teeth, “It was a bit of both positive and negative, you know? Less folks overdosing, but waaaay more complaints from the rest of the neighbourhood. Now it’s gone…” he shrugged, “I dunno. It’s a tough one to measure. The EMTs liked having it, for sure. It eased their minds knowing a professional was around, just in case of accidents.”

Steve nodded and followed Sam, taking in the graffiti, the sleeping bags, the cardboard boxes and, of course, the people slumped against the wet, green wall. “This public space?” he glanced over the rusted wire fence to the parking lots nearby. 

“Technically, no,” Sam said, “‘Cos the land here’s split by the railway tracks, but nobody maintains it, so they let it go.”

Steve nodded slowly, keeping an eye out for anyone who wasn’t moving, or breathing. “So nobody’s claiming responsibility here?”

“Exactly,” Sam uttered.

“I remember when the back of the High School was the place for drugs,” Steve murmured.

Sam laughed, which seemed outlandish a thing to do here, “Oh yeah? Hell, that’s just weed central now. Little Mary-J and those kids are easy to handle. No problem. Roll ‘em into a ball and send ‘em home.”

Steve liked Sam. Sam wasn’t highly strung or prone to bigoted views about the general population. Sam was good. So far.

 

* * *

“I mean,” Sam said, weeks later, waving his hands about in the glaring sunshine, “I get it, okay? You wanna get frisky with your lady, but _come on_ ,” he shook his head. “doesn’t the guy think it’s the least classy thing to get caught doing? In a damn CVS parking lot?”

Steve laughed and sucked at the straw in thefrappuccino he’d picked up. It was pink and fluffy and delicious. He almost choked at Sam’s disgusted face. “What? You mean ladies don’t appreciate cops knocking on windshields and flashlights on ‘em while their husbands are trying to woo them?” he coughed out with a smile.

“ _Woo?_ ” Sam arched his brows, “Your definition and _my_ definition are very different, Rogers. Wooing is roses and Prosecco. Not nasty-ass sex in a hotboxed Rav4 during the morning coffee rush. Man, his hairy butt is gonna give me nightmares forever.”

Steve chewed the end of his straw while they walked.

Sam kept blathering on about their latest bust. Steve was just glad they were working days again. He wasn’t great on night jobs, if he was honest.

The two policemen walked along the edge of the sidewalk, making room for the busy pedestrians and kids running up and down the street. They passed the electronics store that Steve recalled being a candy store when he was a kid. And the old bakery was gone, now replaced with a hookah and smoke shop. Every window down this way was covered in metal bars. The vandalism was out of this world.

“Oh, you shoulda seen this place six months ago,” Sam indicated towards the smoke shop. “Guy was angry at his wife and desperately needed smokes, right? So it’s closed, but he’s still mad and _wants his damn smokes_ ,” Sam shook his head and kept going alongside Steve. “So he damn well reverses right _through_ the front window, thinking it’d be fine, _in and out and see ya_! Only, of course, he trips every alarm within a mile of here and the tires get shredded and he’s actually stuck in his car because he’s a _dumbass_ and the frames of the window got him pinned in and Lord, he’s _just_ a man who _just_ wanted a cigarette because his wife _just_ left him for his estranged brother, _officer!_ Found him bawling his eyes out when we got here.”

Steve blanched, “Really?”

“I can’t even make this shit up,” Sam threw his hands in the air. He crunched up his empty coffee cup and tossed it in a nearby trashcan.

Steve paused so as to try finish his up. He sucked on the straw, eyes flicking around.

“Dude, you’re gonna get a brain freeze,” Sam sighed dramatically, hands on hips.

A few cars down, a couple guys were loading a pickup truck with bags of soil and what looked like mulch. One of them caught Steve’s eye and his heart thudded sharply in his chest. 

_Was that…no…?_

Steve stopped slurping. He stopped everything. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

“Rogers, you okay?” Sam asked, leaning in. “Hello?”

Steve blinked and released his straw. He coughed. “Oh, jeez, uh. Yeah. Sorry. I, uh–“

Sam looked over to his right and spotted the guys working away. One had short blonde hair and was in the truck bed jostling the bags of soil around. The other man was heaving new bags onto the pickup from the cart beside him. This one had longish brown hair tucked behind his ears and a light scruff across his cheeks and jaw. He wore a loose, faded t-shirt with no sleeves and dirty denim jeans and construction boots covered in dust. And he had big arms, _tan_ arms, and a good, strong jaw and cheekbones, and he was a bit sweaty under the spring sunshine…

“Hey,” Sam looked back at Steve, “Don’t tell me you know Barton and Barnes?”

_Barnes_. Steve’s heart did a frivolous, highly unnecessary cartwheel. So it _was_ him!

Holy hell, _Bucky Barnes_. Of all the people Steve had expected to see again, it never occurred to him that Bucky would be one.

“Shit, Rogers, really? Hello…what’s going on in there?” Sam asked loudly, waving a hand in Steve’s face.

Steve blinked at Sam. “Um, whuh?”

“So you know them, huh?” Sam glanced over his shoulder. “You grow up together or some shit?”

Steve nodded, then shook his head awkwardly, “Um, sort of. Something like that.” He blinked, thinking back to what Sam had said. “Wait, did you say _Barton?_ ”

“Yeah?”

“That’s Clint Barton?” Steve zeroed in on the blond man this time. “Oh, _yeah_. Clint. I forgot all about him. Wow. We were in the same year. We took woodworking together. Guy was a whiz with a mandrill.”

“That is wonderfully informative,” Sam said drily.

Steve looked at his partner.

“What?”

“You grew up with those guys?” Sam seemed disbelieving. “For real? You _know_ Barton’s got a rap sheet that rolls out like one of those old ninja scrolls, right? Down the street and under the bridge kinda long. If you’re from the same school, how’d you came out all straight-laced and he’s a delinquent?”

Steve pursed his lips, “I don’t know the answer to that. You shoulda seen me when I was a kid. I was a mess waiting to happen. Also: aren’t you being harsh, officer Wilson?”

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring Steve’s jab at his ethics, “Do you know Barnes well too? ‘Cos pal, if you do, we gotta have a sit-down talk about the pitfalls of mingling with criminals.”

Steve frowned, this time ignoring Sam’s sharp words, “Uh, well, he lived down the street from me. He’s older. We, uh, we weren’t close, or friends or anything. I just knew him, sort of. Back then. Kinda. You know how kids run together? He was around, I guess.”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, his Starbucks cup crunching in his hand.

Sam eyed him, “And?”

Steve tilted his head, “And what?”

“And what happened to the guy? You said you only left this place _after_ high school.”

Steve shrugged, “I don’t know. What do you mean ‘what happened’ to him?”

Sam rubbed at his jaw, “Well, when I joined this force here, one of the first things you find out is that there are folks to be wary of, right? Barnes was one of the big ones. He’s got a rep ‘round here that’s, I swear, almost mythical. Only, I’m not up to date on what he did or why folks walk eggshells around him. Figured you might know somethoing no one else does, seein’ as he’s been a big thing since before me.”

“You think he’s in with something bad?” Steve asked, daring to glance over at the men again. Wow, Barnes looked different these days. It’s a wonder Steve even recognized him at all.

“That’s the thing,” Sam sighed. “ _I’ve_ never seen anything crooked on his end, like he plays it too cool. I seen him fight, though. He’s kinda in it deep with the neighbourhood, is all. Everyone has mad respect for him. I’ve never looked up his files, though. Rand worked his case last time. Scared the shit outta Danny, for sure.”

Steve chewed his lip and watched Bucky close up the truck, tuck his hair behind his ear, and drag the cart back into the store nearby. Something in Steve just sort of fluttered and sprang free; Something deep and blanketed that had remained hidden for more than a decade. He hadn’t expected this at all.

Bucky reappeared and said something to Barton who was jangling keys in his hand loudly. He had a rumbly sort of voice, the kind where Steve can’t hear the words, but could feel the bass.

“Last I saw of  Bu–Barnes …” Steve paused, thinking, before continuing. “I think was when he was sent to juvie for assault. That…yeah, that was the last I heard of him,” he murmured, going back in time.

It was also the moment Steve had tried to extinguish whatever his young teenage self had seen in Bucky, the older, cooler boy that everyone adored. Back then, it had been…hard. Steve realized _now_ that Bucky was probably the first boy that had made his heart flutter weirdly. What a way to set a standard, huh?

“Assault?” Sam asked, definitely intrigued.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, “Word was he beat the tar out of a tourist with a tire iron. Someone from up north. I _think_. I never got the whole story. You know how school rumours go.”

“Yeah,” Sam eyed Steve, “One day Johnny’s holding Suzie’s hand, the next he’s killed her dad and gotten her pregnant.”

Steve nodded slowly.

“Well, he ain’t much these days,” Sam sniffed, and they both watched the truck pull away.

Steve frowned, his drink dregs forgotten. Bucky Barnes. He hadn’t thought of him in years, and now… Steve had moved on, even though he’d hung on for a while back then, desperately, thinking Bucky’s juvie stint would be up before Steve signed up for the Academy.

He’d wanted to finally be fearless and not think of Bucky as the older guy who’d just swung in his friends’ circles. He’d wanted to _know_ Bucky, _be_ Bucky, goddammit. 

But Bucky hadn’t come back. Steve had had to save up for training, but even with those extra years after High School, working his ass off, Bucky never showed. Some stupid part of him had clearly confused his sexual awakening with some blind idolatry.

Word was that Bucky joined the Navy. Or Army, something like that. 

Even then, young, wide-eyed, Steve knew that was probably it for the only son of Winifred Barnes, the widow from down the way. That’s how it was, for folks like them. The boy from the shitty neighbourhood finding it easier to get into a uniform and stay out of trouble rather than wind up incarcerated or strung out like the other half of their classmates would inevitably be.

 

* * *

"What do you mean this isn’t the first?” Steve asked, trying his best to not sound pushy. Sam was with the medics while they tried to resuscitate an older man who the woman Steve was talking to called ‘Ham’.

“It’s just not,” She slurred a little, eyes unfocused. “Is Ham gonna be okay?”

“They’re working on him,” Steve said, “Now, Caroline, I need you to think, just for a second. Think about what Ham was using. Was it heroin?”

Caroline scoffed loudly, her scraggly hair falling loose from her hair tie. “Naw, _heroin!_ We can’t afford fancy shit like that, _officer_. What you think this is? Upper Eas’ Side? Naw, Ham was prolly…prolly,” she faded out a little, listing to the side, when Steve reached out to halt her. He frowned, hoping Ham was okay, but also hoping that the medics would spare a moment here as well.

“Do you know what he was doing? What drugs?” Steve pressed further. His knees were aching from the crouch he’d been in for a while now.

“I guess…”Caroline nodded slowly, “I would guess, pretty officer, you know, you have lovely blue eyes–“

“Ma’am, _please_ ,” Steve huffed.

She cackled, “Okay, all right. I would guess Ham was on the new cheap stuff. What’s it called? H? Is that a thing?”

Steve wrote everything down, frowning harder. He looked up at Caroline, “H? Heroin?”

“Naw, I already said not heroin! _You dolt._ You listening to me or are your ears just pretty too? I said it’s the new thing. The good stuff. Makes you feel soft. Makes you okay, you know? Makes it all go away,” she waved her hand listlessly.

Steve twisted his lips. God, he wanted to help these people. “Okay, so this ‘H’…do you smoke it…or inject?”

“Smoke,” Caroline nodded, “Definitely smoke. It’s got this amazing aroma too. Don’t smell like meth, you know. Like Elmer,” she cocked a thumb over at a very old and very dirty man asleep under the lee of the fence. The highway cast a lot of shadow down here, so it wasn’t uncommon to see the homeless here covered from head-to-toe all year round. “Elmer smells like meth.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder to the medics. Sam gave him a thumbs-up, but with a grim line to his lips.

“Okay, Caroline, looks like Ham’s going to be okay. He’s gonna get to the hospital though.” Steve paused, “Do you want to go with him?”

Caroline looked at him like he was crazy, “You for real? Hell no. We ain’t gonna see Ham for weeks now, not with the rehab program they keep shoving us into. You think I’m gonna go there too? forget it.”

Steve sighed and closed his notepad. “You sure?” he said gently.

Caroline glared.

“It’s a voluntary intake program,” Steve murmured. “They can’t force you into rehab.”

She eyed his face, then flicked her gaze up to his police hat. “I said I’m good, officer.”

 

* * *

“H?” Sam asked, thinking. He was leaning against his own desk, long legs and crossed ankles. “Damn it.”

“You heard of it?” Steve asked, leaning back in his chair. 

Sam gave a wince of acknowledgement.

“I think so. First got wind of it a few months ago. The team brushed it off as heroin. Sounds about the same, you know?”

Steve nodded.

“But when I was at this conference in Chicago,” Sam went on, “There was a whole thing about some new pharma on the streets that nobody could track. Like it was so finely manufactured the body ate it up like candy. Sounded pretty awesome at first, actually.” 

“And?” Steve pressed. 

Sam eyed him sardonically, “It’s pretty tough shit. Hardens the veins and arteries slowly over time, but not in one go. Takes a few hits over time. Most folks who die from it suffer cardiac arrest, or infarctions. It’s why it took so long for folks to find it. I think when tons of young people started flatlining, docs paid attention.”

“Sounds pretty damn fancy,” Steve huffed, pondering. “Sounds expensive.”

“And deadly,” Sam added on.

“So how’d this stuff make its way down behind the Lumber Yard?” Steve asked himself mostly, thumb playing over his lip. “The folks down there can barely afford a sandwich, never mind high-end super-refined drugs.”

Sam stared at Steve, “Wish I knew.”

What a disappointment to find out Sam Wilson didn’t know everything.

 

* * *

“She’s gonna be fine, right?” a voice piped up, surprising Steve. It was way gone midnight and he and Sam were finishing up after another call for overdosing. 

He turned and came face-to-face with a teenage girl. She had wild dark hair and hard look in her eye. Her hands were jammed in a white and blue track jacket.

“Uh, hi?” Steve said, glancing at Sam. Sam just shook his head and kept taking notes.

Steve looked at the tall girl. She must be from the neighbourhood.

“Mrs D’Oroso?” the girl said. “She gonna be okay?”

Steve blinked, “Uh, we’ll have to wait and see…” he trailed off. “What’s your name again?”

“Again?” She frowned, “We ain’t never met, _officer._ ” God, why did everyone say it like that?

“Well, here’s to first meetings then,” Steve cleared his throat and held out his hand. “Steve Rogers.”

She eyed his hand before raising her own and taking it, like he was a cobra ready to spit.

“America,” she said roughly, almost angrily.

Steve blinked. “First or last? ‘Cos if your first is ‘United States Of’, I’m gonna have to get your autograph.”

She didn’t smile. “Chavez. You know, I heard about you,” she said, squinting, hands back in her pockets.

“Oh yeah?” Steve’s brows rose.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Rami was saying there’s a new punk-ass bitch cop in town.”

Steve’s brows rose higher.

“But Monica said there’s also a stupid handsome motherfucker cop. Saw him at the deli buying sausage. So I’m not sure which one is you.”

Was Sam _laughing_? 

“Huh,” Steve said, “I could be both?”

“You the newest?” America asked.

Steve nodded.

“Huh,” she mirrored him, looked him over. “So anyway,” she tilted her chin up and Steve wondered where the hell her parents were and why she was out so late by herself. “Mrs D’Oroso gonna be okay?”

“You family?” Steve asked.

She shrugged, “Might as well be.”

And Steve knew exactly what that meant. You live in a place like this, with people in just as tough a situation as yourself, you gotta make connections and new family where you can. Everyone looks out for everyone else.

“Well, we can’t really give out info to non-family members, you understand?”

She scowled, “Yeah, but her son’s in supermax and she almost, like, _died_ tonight. You even know why?”

Steve held back his answer. Then shook his head. It was the best he could do.

She glared hard at him, “Fine. You jackass cops never want to help anyway.” and with that, she turned and walked away into the darkness, like some kind of teenage emissary of gloom.

“Jeez,” Steve sighed and caught Sam’s smile.

“You almost told her everything, didn’t you? You freakin’ sucker,” Sam laughed.

“What?” Steve huffed, “So you just decided to watch me try and be nice and fail miserably?” He grabbed his own notebook from atop the cruiser. 

“You try too hard, newbie,” Sam said, flapping his own notepad closed. “Besides, I got info from Marcus.”

Steve looked up, “Oh? And?”

Sam’s face was grim, “Not looking good. Says Mrs D’Oroso’s been in rehab a couple times. Hard life and all that. Picked up drugs a few years ago and has been struggling on and off for a long while.”

“Shit,” Steve breathed.

“Except from her history, he says she was never into anything hard. Usually prescriptions.”

Sam pulled something small out of his pocket, already in an evidence bag. “She had this in her purse.”

Steve took the bag and eyed the tiny sachet wrapped in white parchment paper. It had a green stamp on it. A multi-headed snake.

“H?” he breathed, recognizing the symbol. “What the hell’s a fifty year-old divorceé doing with this?”

“Guess is as good as mine,” Sam sighed, “But I have a really bad feeling here, Rogers.”

“She might be able to afford it?” Steve scrutinized the sachet.

“It’s not about cost,” Sam said, scratched at his goatee. “It’s about how this is spreading.”

“Small community,” Steve said.

“Is that it, though?” Sam said, “that’s all it takes?”

Steve bit his lower lip, unsure. “I don’t know. But at least we finally have some for forensics?”

“And if she dies?” Sam said, softer.

Steve’s face softened and he handed back the evidence baggie. 

“Then we’re not gonna know who gave it to her,” he said grimly. “And we won’t be able to stop it.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” a soft voice came up from the other side of the cruiser, causing both men to look up sharply.

“Hey!” Sam barked, already moving.

“What the…” Steve frowned, watching a bushy-haired teen book it away, disappearing into the darkness at top speed. “Was she…How did she? What? _How_?”

“Oh God,” Sam rubbed at his face, “She musta snuck round the cars, crept up by the cruiser so we wouldn’t see her. I swear to God…”

“Crap,” Steve sighed. “You think she heard us?”

“No, Rogers, I don’t think she heard us speculating about drugs leaking into the community and possibly killing a woman she considers family.”

Steve sucked his teeth, looking into the gap between buildings where America had vanished.

“Damn it.”

 

* * *

 

“Damn, it _is_ you.”

Steve twisted, hands overloaded with grocery bags. A redhead in yoga pants, sneakers, jacket and ballcap looked up at him with a devilish grin.

“ _Natasha_?” Steve gasped, almost dropping everything.

She looked _amazing_. She’d always been the looker in school, and even before that, before her eyebrows grew in, she wasn’t the kid to mess with.

“Steve Rogers,” she laughed, “Oh my God. Look at you.”

He wanted to appear less idiotic, but his groceries were important, so he held onto them. The warm sun beat down on them, and he only had another block to go anyway.

“Hey, hi,” Steve said, “Um.”

“You need some help?” she quirked a brow at him.

“Uh, no, thanks, um. How ‘bout we walk?”

She smiled, “Sure. I got time. Where we heading?”

Steve was surprised she agreed. “Um, I’m staying at _The Dunes_ , on Fairmont,” he said.

“Really,” she said, a twist to her lips. “ _The Dunes._ ”

Steve shrugged, “Hey, until I can find something better, in my price range, yeah.” _The Dunes_ has a bit of a history in these parts. And sure, the building isn’t the safest, or cleanest in the world, but it would do for now. Plus side: it had a pool.

“How are you? It’s been, well, years,” he said.

“That it has,” she murmured. Over a decade, at least, since Steve left home and moved to Washington. Hard to believe there were still people living here that he’d rolled with when he was a kid.

“Heard you’re a cop now?” Natasha squinted in the sunshine.

Steve nodded, knowing full well how that sounded. “Uh, yeah.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, “Well, can’t say I’m surprised. You always were a little shit.”

Steve smiled, unsure.

“But then I heard of the new boy in blue. Heard he was called ‘Rogers’ and had to investigate.”

“People talking about me already, huh?” Steve queried.

Natasha eyed him, “We got tabs on all the cops, don’tcha know?” She pulled out a Minnesota drawl for emphasis. She was smiling, but Steve had a sinking feeling in his gut. Never in all his years did he see Natasha behave so coyly.

“This wasn’t an accident, was it?” he sighed. “You really were scoping me out.”

She shrugged and continued to walk beside him. 

“I’m…” he began, unsure, “I’m not like what the news paints us to be. If that makes sense?”

She then looked up, mouth a hard line.

“Really? You up and disappear and become some honoured capital street hero and now you’re here? To what? Clean up these dirty streets? Root out the filth? Fix this place?”

Steve blinked, the frowned, “No, I–“

“I didn’t _actually_ think Steve Rogers was back,” she said. “I figured he’d be gone for good, that little guy.” Steve couldn’t read her. She was an unknown to him, now. She wasn’t his friend, his classmate. She was a stranger. She looked him over. “Guess he still is.”

“Uh, well,” he cleared his throat as they turned the corner, the Dunes coming into view. “No, I’m not that little kid anymore, but, you know, I’m home now.”

“Home?” she sounded completely annoyed. “You?”

“I was disappointed to find they demolished the old ValleyHill complex,” he said gently. “Spent some good years growing up there.”

Natasha was still frowning.

“Wouldn’t have minded reliving it,” he said with a small smile. This was so goddamn awkward.

“They’re tearing a ton of shit down these days,” she said sharply. Then, at the sidewalk entrance to _The Dunes_ , she turned, arms folded. “Listen.”

Steve stopped and met her hard gaze.

“You aren’t in it anymore,” she said.

Steve blinked.

“You can’t assume that you’re in with the neighbourhood, like _that,”_ she uncurled her arms and snapped her fingers. “You’re a damn cop now.” If Natasha was the spitting sort, she’d have done so by now. “You haven’t earned _anything_ by being from here, you got that? No brownie points, nothing.”

Steve stared back at her, unwavering. “You try to shake down all the new cops on beat?”

She scowled, “You’d know if this was a shakedown, Rogers. You’d be limping.”

“Then what is this?”

Natasha looked aside, to the building Steve was, for now, calling home. “Honestly? I didn’t believe it was you. Couldn’t believe it. You were just as much of a shit stain as any of us, back in the day. Why’d you switch sides, I figure I don’t want to know.”

And she wasn’t wrong. Steve had always been right there, in it with everyone. He’d had more black eyes than anyone else combined before he was fifteen.

“And fuck,” she put both hands on her hips, “Here you are, wearin’ a badge and toting a gun and walking the streets like … like…what _happened_?”

“Life,” Steve shrugged.

“Yeah?” she frowned, “Well make sure your life doesn’t interfere with mine.”

“What are you saying, Nat?” the nickname falling easily from his lips.

“I’m saying, you keep your nose out of our shit and we keep our shit clean.”

“Are you suggesting you’re into illegal activity?” Steve cocked a brow at her, taunting.

“I’m saying,” she rolled her eyes, “If you aren’t helping, then you’re hindering. So pay attention.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and headed back the way they’d come. 

Steve stood there, hands overloaded with groceries and wondered what exactly she meant by that.

 

* * *

“So what is this again?” Steve asked, following Sam through the parking lot. “And why are we in uniform?”

“Okay, listen up blonde roast,” Sam sighed, “It’s a neighbourhood barbecue being put on by the local developer. They been doing a few of these each year, to get folks to know them.”

“I don’t understand,” Steve said. “Why would a building developer want to get friendly with the locals?”

Sam shrugged, “By being good neighbours? There is a _lot_ of construction going on around here, Rogers. You not been paying attention?”

Okay, yes, he _had_. There were a lot of buildings coming down and going up. There was a new mini mall slated for the corner of Vasily and Therbault, and the old Mossey library was being torn down next week, going by the massive signs outside.

“Hmmm,” Steve grumbled, seeing the park come into view. Tons of people had shown up. Kids were clambering over the climbing frames and sliding on the slides. Multiple grills and barbecues had been set up, manned by cooks of all kinds. A huge vinyl sign stood close-by stating ‘Welcome everyone!’ in big blue block letters. 

“Brought to you by the Pierce Corporation,” Steve read under that.

The turnout was huge.

Steve waved at a table of police officers and fire fighters.

Captain Hill winked his way, while chowing down on a hotdog. Her fireman uniform looked way more comfortable than his own police one.

“Wow,” Steve murmured.

“See? It’s great,” Sam smiled. “Free food, free pop, free candy, what’s not to love?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Steve said. Still, what the hell?

The two of them walked through the crowd, trying to find food and good seats.

Eventually they had to make do with a park bench.

“So good,” Sam said round a mouthful of jerk chicken.

Steve chewed slowly on his burger.

He watched a group of children taking part in some kind of dance playtime. A woman was waving her hands, an outdated boombox on the ground beside her. Nearby parents clapped and laughed and cheered them on.

“So cute,” Sam huffed. “See? This ain’t a bad way to spend our day off.”

“We’re in uniform though,” Steve sighed. “It’s weird.”

“Captain’s orders,” Sam mumbled. “Goddamn, I shoulda gotten a pop.”

“They’ll kill you, though,” Steve smiled his way. 

Sam just rolled his eyes.

A noise of voices had Steve look up.

“No, I swear _to God_ , hand on the bible, it’s him,” a blonde man was saying, walking determinedly their way. He was gesticulating while he walked, to the man beside him. The tall, tan, beefy guy beside him… oh fuck.

Steve tried to swallow his mouthful and almost choked in the process.

“No…” another voice said, all deep and rumbly. “Can’t be…”

“Swear to baby jesus, Nat said so,” Clint Barton said, getting closer.

“Uh oh, incoming,” Sam muttered under his breath, like Steve wasn’t aware.

And Clint Barton, along with Bucky Barnes, walked right up to them on their bench and came to an awkward stop.

Really, though, Clint barrelled up like an excited labrador, while Barnes slowly followed, as if unsure, or unwilling.

“Hey,” Clint said.

Steve looked up. Clint was smiling, hands on hips, the sun glaring down behind him. Steve squinted and refocused on the brunette behind him.

Bucky was there. In front of him. Bucky Barnes. What? _What?_

“Is he broken?” Clint was saying.

“Nah,” Sam muttered, “Just a little slow on the uptake. Rogers!”

“Oh, uh, hi,” Steve swallowed and put his hamburger down…somewhere…who cares. He got to his feet.

“Jayzuz,” Barton crowed, “I can’t believe it. Steve Goddamn Rogers! How the fuck are you, pal?”

He shook Steve’s hand vigorously.

“Uh, hey, Clint,” Steve said. “Long time.”

“Yeah, you _think?_ ” Clint barrelled on. “Man, you have proteined up.” He glanced at Sam, who was also standing now. “You know, he used to be a titchy little thing.”

Sam’s brows rose, “Really?” he turned to Steve with a small smile, “I did not know this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Clint went on, confirming for Steve that this was indeed the same guy he’d gone to school with, the one who spoke too fast and trusted too easily. “He was a firecracker though. Got into more fights than anyone else. Remember that time Damien Liu popped you on the nose?”

Steve smiled and nodded sheepishly, “Yeah. that never did heal right.”

“Looks like it,” Clint grinned wide, like the sun.

“You sayin’ my boy’s got a crooked nose because he was a shit disturber?” Sam asked. “And here’s me thinking it just grew that way.”

Steve pushed at Sam’s shoulder, “Shut up,” he said hotly, doing his damn best to _not_ look past Clint to the man just behind and to the side of him. How long could he play this up? _No, I can’t see any strikingly handsome guys nearby? What are you talking about? I’m a perfectly natural social butterfly with no weird quirks._

“It’s good to see you, though,” Clint went on. He looked Steve up and down. “I mean, bummer about the profession.”

Steve actually laughed then. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”

Clint shrugged, “Well, you chose the life, I s’pose.”

Steve nodded, “Uh, sure, but–“

“How’s the hamster, by the way?” Sam asked suddenly, confusing the fuck out of Steve.

“Huh? Hamlet?” Clint said, “Oh, he died. Little guy was too gentle for this cruel world.”

“Aw, man,” Sam shook his head, “That sucks.”

“Now, his brother Benvolio? Oh, he’s doing great!”

Sam chuckled, “You hear about the hamster caper? When half the force was called in because–” he started, “Steve?”

Steve swallowed.

Bucky was looking at him and it was all kinds of awesome/awkward.

“Oh, shoot, sorry, man!” Clint smacked his forehead. “Barnes, you knew Rogers too. Right?”

Bucky stepped up and cleared his throat. “Hey,” he rumbled.

And Steve’s legs did _not_ give out and he did not faint at such an awesome sound. 

“Hey,” Steve nodded and smiled. He held out his hand. “Remember me?”

Bucky’s hand was rough, calloused. He grunted. “Yeah. But you were smaller.”

He seemed a little freaked out, actually.

So Steve took his own hand back. “Uh, yeah. I had a late growth spurt, or something.”

“Right,” Bucky murmured.

“You guys were in school together?” Sam asked, like this was all new to him. Steve gave him side-eye for his fake-ass innocence.

“ _We_ were,” Clint waved a finger between himself and Steve. “This guy’s a year older, though.” He thumbed at Bucky.

“It’s good to be back,” Steve smiled, his voice catching with his nerves. God, he sounded like puberty had just hit.

“You bet it is!” Clint crowed, “Ain’t no place like this shithole ‘hood.”

Sam tilted his head in agreement.

Steve wanted to say something. Something smart, something funny, but he couldn’t think of anything. Fuck.

“So, you married? Kids?” Clint asked. “Adopting? highly recommend it!”

Sam frowned, “You got adopted kids?”

“Nah, man,” Clint chuckled, “I was adopted. Best idea ever. Again, highly recommend.”

Sam snorted loudly, “Yeah, no. Steve here’s probably gonna get there one day, though. I bet.”

“So no kids?” Clint asked again. “Lady friend?” He waggled his eyebrows like an idiot.

“Man, you’re so nosy,” Steve heard Bucky murmur.

“Ah,” Steve breathed, “No. Not yet. No kids. Uh, no, uh lady friend.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll bite soon enough,” Clint chuckled.

“You only say that because you are basically married to the queen of all women, man,” Sam laughed. “You don’t even have to try.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Clint grinned. “I have been blessed.”

Bucky stared skyward, clearly exasperated.

“No ladies,” Steve went on. He felt like he was purposely putting himself out there. “No ladies, uh, ever, recently.”

“No?” Clint pouted.

“Well,” Steve scratched his chin, “I mean, I sort of, you know, swing the other way anyhow. I tried, but…anyway.”

Sam blinked at him. “What?”

“What?” Steve parroted back. “you knew.”

“I did not,” Sam said. “Dude. You play for the other team? Shit. I’ve been sending half the women on our floor your way! I thought you were just _shy_!”

Steve flushed, “What? why would you do that? Is that why Amy keeps asking if I have pens? She’s always coming over and taking my pens.”

“Oh my God,” Sam said softly, “I’ve been wasting their time, your time. _My time._ ”

Clint was cackling at this.

When Steve looked up, though, Bucky was staring. Or frowning. And the tops of his cheeks were kind of pink. What the hell?

Bucky caught his gaze, then looked away hastily, licking his lips.

A small voice interrupted them. All four men looked down at a teeny blonde girl with big brown eyes. She was scooting a small hand up to Barnes’ fingers, by his hip.

“Bucky…” she whistled through her gap teeth. “Dance time.”

And goddamnit.

Barnes gave her a small smile. “Hey Miss Thang. I thought dancing didn’t start up until later?”

She pulled at his fingers. “No, now.”

“Uh, okay,” he murmured, glancing over his shoulder. The dance teacher was rejigging her boombox. “Sure, let’s go.”

And he scooped the little girl up and backed away from the three men. 

“Gotta go,” he rumbled awkwardly.

Steve’s jaw was open.

He cleared his throat and said, in a weird raspy whisper,  “Uh, is she–“

“His?” Clint said quickly. “Oh God, no. He’s just a sucker for all the kids. Her mom’s over there.” Clint pointed at a group of women on the grass.

“Sure, okay,” Steve said.

Clint turned when his name was called, loudly, sharply. “Ah, m’lady beckons,” he said, thenturned.

“We should catch up, _officers_ ,” he smiled. “You especially, Rogers. I got some stories to _tell_.”

“I’ll bet he does,” Sam hummed as Clint walked away, back to Natasha who was eyeing them warily from across the concrete.

 

* * *

The day in the sun was drawing to a close and Steve could barely remember anything about the whole day.

He’d spent an inordinate amount of time watching Barnes dance with kids, walking girls along on his feet and being an all-round babysitter in general. 

Sure, Steve got time to sit with his fellow officers and met a few more of the locals, but it was clear to him that law enforcement wasn’t welcome here. He was basically treated with cold indifference.

In fact, he still wondered why they’d been invited, until it was all made clear.

He’d wanted to talk to Bucky, just once. He wanted to … try.

So before the sun set, he made his way over to where Bucky was standing, talking to a girl.

“Uh, hi,” Steve stepped in, hand up in a weird, stupid wave.

Barnes looked up and frowned. The girl he was talking to turned. Steve’s eyes widened.

“You!” he gasped.

“Man, who invited _you!_ ” America Chavez cried, making a beeline for the other side. Before she could escape, Steve grabbed her elbow.

“Police brutality!” she squealed, twisting.

Steve let her go, “Hey, come on, I just want to talk.” Okay, not necessarily with _her_ but still.

Barnes was in his face. “Back off,” he rumbled.

Steve took a step away. “Sorry,” he said, hands up. America was behind Barnes, scowling.

“Don’t touch her,” Barnes said.

“Sorry,” Steve nodded again. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” this was meant for America, of course. He doubted anything could scare this guy. “I just wanted to talk before you ran off _again._ I have questions. _”_

“Nothin’ doing,” she huffed and booked it. Just like that. Poof.

“What…?” Steve deflated. “I just … wanted to ask…”

Barnes folded his thick arms and eyed Steve. 

Steve gulped and flushed a little, he was sure. “Um…” he began, “I actually came over here to talk to you, but I guess I messed that up.”

Barnes’ eyes only squinted harder. 

Steve scratched at his nose. “So…how are you?” Would the ground just open its great gaping maw and eat him alive already?

Bucky looked him over and Steve just tried to not ogle those biceps.

“Still a troublemaker, huh?” Bucky murmured.

Before Steve could answer, a hand clapped on to Bucky’sshoulder. Steve looked over at an older man, one with a pleasant face and neatly combed hair. He was in a suit, of all things, but wore a calm smile. “Barnes!” he said, “You must introduce us. I hear we have a new officer in town.” But when Barnes did nothing, just stood there and blinked, he held out his hand, “Alexander Pierce, nice to meet you, officer…” he eyed Steve’s badge, “Rogers?”

“Yes, of course,” Steve shook his hand, his face falling into his standard ‘I’m a professional’ expression. “Pierce? As in the Pierce Corporation?”

The man chuckled, “Well, can’t go undercover when my name’s on the welcome banner. Yes, that’s me. I hope you’re enjoying your day here?”

Steve nodded, “Sure. Yeah.” He didn’t know what it was but the guy set off something like a warning bell in Steve. He was too suave for this setting.

Pierce patted Bucky’s shoulder, “I see you’ve met one of my best employees too. Barnes?”

Bucky grunted, “Yes, boss.”

“You are being nice to this upstanding officer of the law, yes?” Pierce smiled.

Bucky nodded sharply.

“Employee?” Steve queried.

“Ah, you really are new,” Pierce said. “Yes, I’m afraid a lot of the building development going up is mine, or at least of my interest. We have a lot of teams hard at work here, Officer Rogers. We’re going to make this town beautiful.”

“You saying it isn’t already?” Steve said wryly.

“Ah, a sharp one we have here,” Pierce said with a chuckle.

Bucky shrugged.

“He’s quiet,” Pierce smiled, like he was talking about a favourite nephew, “But he’s my best contractor. Manages my teams like a pro. He’s quite the asset.”

Steve blinked. _ Construction? Huh.  _

“That’s good…” Steve said. “You enjoy the work?” he directed this at Barnes.

Barnes looked at him and nodded, “Pierce Corp. gave a lot of us jobs 'round here,” he shrugged again. “It’s good.”

“Uh huh,” Steve murmured. He turned back to Pierce. “So the barbecue ... ?”

“A little thank you gift to everyone,” Pierce smiled. “We’re a bit of a bother, what with the noise and mess, so I thought it would be nice to treat everyone. On me, of course.”

“Of course,” Steve nodded, not believing it for a second. 

“And I’d like to welcome all of the fine law enforcement officers to enjoy themselves as well. After all, without them, we’d never be able to navigate a thing with the city regulations and traffic and such.” Pierce’s smile was wide and sharp.

Steve’s own smile was tight. He couldn’t tell how, or why, but Pierce was just not projecting properly. He gave Steve the creeps, and he’d just met him. Steve would bet a million imaginary dollars that Pierce wasn’t one to overlook the greasing of palms. After all, Steve wasn’t a damn cop for nothing.

 

* * *

It was happening again.

“He didn’t make it,” Sam said, head hanging.

“Damnit,” Steve breathed.

They’d lost another chance of talking to a victim of the drug H. With the information gleaned from chemical analysis, the whole force was now aware of the dangers of this sweet-smelling killer. More and more people were showing up dead, or overdosing and being rushed to hospital in critical condition.

Steve barged into Captain Ross’ office.

And it wasn’t just Steve noticing that it was primarily the people down by the Lumber Yard who were most affected.

It was a such a pure drug that it had to be manufactured at a high-tech facility. Dr. Foster, their scientific genius connection, was sure of it.

“Leaves absolutely no trace,” she’d said, almost in awe, at the precinct briefing. “The only thing we can suggest your teams look out for is the scent and the powder. It can’t be smoked straight and it’s not for injecting. Users have been taught, somehow, by someone, to mash it with blood. It gets rolled and then smoked, like a joint.”

It was kind of terrifying.

“So we’re also looking for people with wounds, with scars from getting blood?” Steve had asked at the time.

“Yes,” Dr. Foster nodded, “Good thinking.”

“Why blood?” Sam had asked.

Dr Foster had sighed, “We’re assuming it’s because it’s not the worst liquid available for immediate inhalation, but honestly, water would work fine too. It’s weird that users have been found with it crumbled and dry and mixed with blood.”

So what that meant was, someone had started it that way. For what reason, no one was sure. Maybe just to get a kick out of the poor, addicted people who didn’t question free highs.

And it _was_ free.

This was the disturbing part. No one seemed to know who was distributing, only that if you wanted it, it was free, no charge. No upfronts, no interest, nada.

And that was what really got Steve’s mind rolling. 

High quality, pharma-grade highs being given out by faceless people to poor, homeless folks who don’t know any better. It was sick.

“For the last time, Rogers,” Captain Ross barked, “Stop harping on the injection site program!”

“But, sir,” Steve pressed, “It’s gotta be better than–“

“Out of my office,” Ross said, hands on his desk, face red. “You have an actual job. Go do it.”

“Well that worked well,” Sam said ironically, ready for Steve’s swift exit. He was used to Steve’s badgering routine.

“It’s just–“ Steve huffed loudly, “Preventative! How is that so hard! We could have on-site professionals, and then we don’t have people dying!”

“I don’t disagree,” Sam said, “But pissing off the Captain won’t do you any favours.”

“Well, maybe he needs to listen better,” Steve huffed angrily, still storming onwards.

Sam shook his head. "Man, you really are gunning for his job."

Steve scoffed at that, "Sam, no. Jeez, you have to stop saying that."

He rounded a corner and entered their bullpen. He halted abruptly.  Someone was sitting in his chair.

“What the–?” Sam said, slamming into his back.

“Hey,” America Chavez waved, feet crossed on Steve’s desk. “Reception told me I could wait here.”

Steve blinked and came closer, slowly.

“Hi, America,” he said calmly, like he was talking to a skittish colt. “What can I do for you?”

She frowned, then lowered her feet. “Look, this ain’t my big idea. But I got _questions_. And I can’t do nothin’ without a cop’s interference.”

Steve came closer. Sam went to get his notepad.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

She chewed her lip. “I don’t like talking to pigs,” she said bluntly.

“Watch your mouth,” Sam said calmly, like he heard it all the time.

She pouted, “Okay, look. Mrs D’Oroso, you remember?”

Steve nodded.

“She got info, for you. Only I just heard it yesterday. We-, I mean, _I_ decided you should know.”

“Know what?” Steve pressed.

He pulled a chair over, its feet scraping loudly across the linoleum.

America clearly didn’t want to do this. “She says she got it, the drug, she got it from…someone.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “Was it someone she knew?”

“Yeah, _of course_ , chico,” America sighed, “She ain’t _stupid_.”

Steve smiled wanly. “All right. Can you tell me who it was?”

“No,” she said bluntly, “But I can tell you where it came from.”

Steve blinked. Well, that would do nicely. 

“There’s a lot of shipments in the new Bailee construction site,” she said conversationally. 

Steve knew which site she was talking about. The one with the deep hole, no building just yet. Just hoarding and trucks and diggers. “Okay.”

She nodded slowly, checking his face. “Seems like folks are working gigs down there and they don’t necessarily know what they’re unloading. It ain’t plywood, that’s for sure.”

Sam was silent behind Steve. They both daren’t breath in case she split.

“You sure?” he asked simply.

She shrugged.

Then she stood abruptly.

“Why’d you come tell us, America?” Steve said, getting to his own feet. He made sure to keep his distance.

“Because,” she paused and frowned, “You said people are dying and nobody knows why. You gotta find out why, okay? Mrs D’Oroso ain’t doing so good after her OD. She wasn’t doing so good before, but now it’s worse. She never hurt anybody. And a bunch of people are doing this shit. We gotta stop it. You can’t let whoever it is start killing off the poor people. We got rights too. We ain’t dogs to be put down.”

And both Steve and Sam were silent.

“You’re right,” Steve said. “One hundred percent.”

“Thanks for coming to talk,” Sam added.

He held out his card. “You ever need us, you can also call. I got his number on the back too.”

She glared at them both.

“I ain’t leaving a statement.”

Steve nodded, understanding. “We’d need a legal guardian present anyway.”

“Huh,” Sam looked around, “I don’t see your ma anywhere.”

She took that as her sign to go, and she did, snatching the card out of Sam’s hand as she went.

* * *

 

“She got it in one,” Steve smacked down the folder onto Sam’s desk.

“What?” Sam squawked.

“The drugs, America said they’re for the poor people. As in, exclusively. And she’s right.”

Sam pulled the document over and opened it up.

“These are city by-law programs for developments,” he uttered. He glanced up at Steve. “Uh, oh, I’m starting to hate that look you get.”

“She’s right!” Steve crowed. “Look! The Pierce Corporation applied for a certain set of permits to build, right?”

“Yes…” Sam nodded.

“But a whole slew of other investors applied for others. And these investors, which are directly linked to Pierce, are using him as developer as well.”

“Well,” Sam read some more, “That isn’t exactly illegal.”

“Yeah, but the underlined word in almost all these cases is ‘gentrification’. Read the investor write-up on page seventy-two. They slipped it in there.”

Sam flipped further.

He scanned the page. “Hydra…” he read aloud. He looked up, eyes widening. “Shit. You serious?”

“Hydra Pharmaceuticals, based in Beijing. Massive producer of standard prescription medication. All above-board stuff, right?”

“Yeah, but,” Sam’s eyes were wide now too, because he was getting it. “The stamp on the drugs. The snake thing.”

“A hydra,” Steve nodded.

Sam scoffed loudly. “Are you serious? Are they really _that_ dumb?”

“Or that arrogant?” Steve added. 

“Shit,” Sam breathed, “So Pierce has a foot in the door with a pharma. And another in developments. What the hell’s he doing?”

“Exactly what America said. He’s trying to get rid of the poor, the sick, the elderly.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Because you can’t own land that needs development if the residents can’t be moved, bought out or sold."

“The lumber yard,” Sam breathed.

“And the train tracks,” Steve added.

“Oh, we gotta go,” Sam said, leaping to his feet.

 

* * *

“This is your goddamn fault!” Natasha swung a fist, nearly clipping Steve’s jaw.

“Hey, hey!” Sam cut in and held her back. “Ma’am, please, calm down.”

“Natasha,” Steve said. “What’s going on?”

When they’d arrived on the scene, Clint Barton was being herded into the back of a police cruiser.

“I swear to God, Rogers,” Natasha hissed, “You’re messing with the wrong family. You can’t just arrest people with no charges! No reason!”

“Hey, hey,” Steve said, sharp, “I have no idea what’s happening.”

“Then why’s Clint being handcuffed? Why’s he being arrested?”

Steve was the confused one here.

“I…don’t know…” he turned.

Officer Rand came jogging up to him, beckoning.

“The hell is going on?” Steve asked, frantic.

He and Sam had shown up to the construction site and absolute chaos was already breaking out.

“Uh, suspect was found in possession of a class-A controlled substance, sir,” Danny said hurriedly. He held up an evidence bag.

“Holy shit,” Sam breathed from behind Steve. “That ain’t no sachet.”

No it was not. That right there was a Hydra-stamped, two pound brick of what could only be drug H.

 

* * *

“It’s not our case, Rogers,” Sam sighed for the millionth time. “You can’t interfere.”

“This is such bullshit!” Steve slammed his palm into the steering wheel. “We need to get Clint out.”

“You crazy?” Sam said. “No, what we need to do is find out why he had this shit on him.”

“He was set up, he was tagged,” Steve said.

“Maybe,” Sam nodded. “But maybe not.”

“Sam,” Steve turned to face his partner. “Clint Barton would never deal shit like that.”

“Why not?” Sam asked. “He’s been busted dealing weed before.”

“Weed is not–ugh!”

Steve put the key in the ignition and started the engine.

“Okay, pal,” Sam said calmly, “Where are we going?”

“We need to get into that construction site,” Steve growled.

“We can’t, and you know it,” Sam said.

“ _We_ can’t,” Steve put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. “But I know someone who can.”

 

* * *

“Hey!” a voice followed them down the street, “Hey! You can’t come here, cops! You ain’t allowed!”

A group of teenagers was following them.

Steve turned to greet them.

“Hey, you guys know where I can find James Barnes?”

The trio of teenagers came right up to him, no problem, and stared him down. “Why? You wanna falsely accuse him too?” one of the boys hissed.

“You’re not welcome here,” the other boy said coldly.

“Look, we’re here to help,” Sam said coolly. “We need to find Barnes.”

“Well, we ain’t telling you,” the girl with dark hair huffed. “Snitches get stitches.”

The lanky boy rolled his eyes, “That’s in prison, you idiot.”

“No it isn’t!” she cried. “It’s for traitors.”

“The cops ain’t traitors if they ain’t from our side!”

The two of them bickered some more, while Steve and Sam waited.

They were at another construction site, looking for some way to get in.

“Please, guys,” Steve pleaded, “We want to help Clint too, okay? But we can’t if we don’t find Barnes.”

“Why?” a gravelly voice cut in over the teenagers’ bickering.

Steve spunaround and came face-to-face with none other than Bucky Barnes.

“Hey!” Steve breathed, part joy, part hormonal deficiency. “You _are_ working here today!”

Sam gave him side-eye.

Bucky was in a filthy t-shirt, jeans and a bright yellow hard hat. Really filling out Steve’s internal stereotype of construction workers nicely.

“What do you want?” Bucky scowled.

“We, uh, we need your help,” Steve said.

Bucky frowned.

“They got Clint arrested!” one of the boys cried out, and Sam shushed him.

Bucky looked at Steve then, eyes sharp. “What?”

“We’re trying to help him,” Steve sighed.

The teenagers blurted out Clint’s predicament, which honestly, Steve didn’t think would help.

So Steve pulled Bucky aside while Sam dealt with them.

“Look,” Steve said, “We’ve got an idea of who and what’s going on with this drug.”

Bucky blinked at him. Shoot. It only just occurred to Steve that maybe … maybe Pierce’s top contractor was in on it. Maybe this was why Bucky was so highly prized?

“Is it Pierce?” Bucky asked bluntly without prodding.

Steve blinked, a little taken aback, then nodded, unable to stop himself.

“Shit,” Bucky rubbed at his face. His knuckles were dry and dirty. “Damnit.”

“What?” Steve murmured, totally not distracted by Bucky’s dark eyelashes and cracked pink lips.

“I…” Bucky sighed, rubbing at said lips. “I was really hoping it wasn’t.”

“Why?” Steve asked. 

“Because,” Bucky grumbled, “He was building this town up. Bringing work, jobs. building new homes.”

Steve’s face fell. “Yeah, that’s what it looked like. But he’s also distributing drugs. Bad stuff. I just need the evidence to prove it.”

Bucky looked at him with sharp pale eyes. “And how the hell you gonna do that? They already pinned shit on Barton. He works for Pierce too, you know.”

He seemed to think for a moment.

“I don’t know, Rogers,” Bucky grunted, stepping back. “You come in here and just say shit like that. I can’t really trust you.”

“Yeah, I understand, but–“

“But what? I go in, scope shit out, then what? I get busted? No way. You gotta go.”

He waved his hands.

“No, but–“ Steve started.

“No warrant, no entry,” Bucky said firmly, crossing his arms. “Officer.”

Steve frowned, then took a step back. He knew when he was wasting his time. “All right. Got it.”

 

* * *

“Fuck,” Steve groaned the next morning.

“Yup,” Sam said from beside him.

“They don’t waste time, huh?” Officer Rand said from Steve’s other side.

Steve just stared.

Every single police cruiser in the lot was currently plastered in bright, luminous paint.

His and Sam’s vehicle had the worst of it, indicating that, yes, the residents did pay attention to the police and what cars they drove.

spray-painted doodles of orange pigs and flying dicks covered every square inch, even the windshield, of their car.

“Wow,” Sam shook his head. “Just, wow.”

 

* * *

“So he’s out on bail,” Sam said. “I take it that’s why you’re fleeing?”

“Sorry! I’ll be back!” Steve cried, already halfway out the door.

 

* * *

“You can’t be here,” America stood, arms crossed on Barton’s front porch.

“Look, America,” Steve started. "I came here in my dick-painted police car, which I'm sure you had _nothing_ to do with. It's important."

“No,” she said loudly. “I trusted you. You suck. You’re the worst. Just like everyone else. You gotta go.”

“America,” a soft voice came from behind Steve. He turned.

“Barnes?” Steve blinked.

“Leave Clint alone,” Bucky said. He beckoned to Steve. “C’mon.”

Steve couldn’t have said no even if he tried.

“Hey!” America barked. 

Bucky turned and gave her the ‘zip it!” hand motion.

Steve just followed. They walked down the way, across the street, coming to stop at none other than the old Barnes house. It was faded, greying, and falling apart, but Steve recognized it easily.

“Inside, move it,” Bucky huffed.

The interior was dry and dark, and definitely needed more life put into it.

“Okay,” Bucky closed his front door quietly. “Listen. I spoke to Barton.”

“Yeah?” Steve said, eager.

Bucky held up a hand. “He said he was busted for being high. That his boss saw him wobbling around, or something. That’s how the cops got called.”

Steve deflated a little. “Okay?”

“Except he says he wasn’t high. That he’d been working day shift and was on a sleeping pill or something the night before. He’s shit at regulating his days on and off the site, so I believe that.”

Steve waited, because he figured Bucky was going somewhere with this.

“Says that’s why he was a bit woozy. But it was weird, he says, how his boss called him out on it, like he was looking for it.” Bucky chewed on his bottom lip, just like he used to do when he played baseball in elementary school. It was nerves.

“So,” Bucky breathed gruffly, “Yeah, I know he was a plant, or something. They used him to deflect attention off the site. Except now it’s going on his record.”

Steve frowned. “Yeah, no, I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

“You can’t guarantee that, Rogers,” Bucky said gruffly, angrily. “Don’t play hero just ‘cos you got a badge.”

“I’m not,” Steve went on calmly. “Just trust me.”

Bucky eyed him for a moment. “Well, whatever,” he turned and went over to the clearly overflowing hall closet. “I had to work that site last night.”

Steve’s breath hitched, and it wasn’t just because Bucky bent over to dig through a pile of bags and coats.

He handed over an older iphone model. “Here.”

Steve looked it over.

“I set up the camera where we get shipments in and out of that site,” Bucky murmured. “We were slated to get hardwood pallets. Tons of them. But instead, some guys turned up to do pick-up instead. Completely off the manifesto. Tell me this can work as an anonymous tip?”

Steve’s eyes went wide.

“Holy crap, are you serious?”  He blinked at Bucky. “You could have been caught.”

Bucky shrugged, “I figured it wouldn’t be so bad. You coulda been lying.”

“And this video…it proves I wasn’t?”

“Something like that,” Bucky actually fucking smiled.

 

* * *

“That is some high fidelity evidence, my man!” Sam crowed.

“Yes!” Steve punched the air as the video looped through for the fifth time.

“Fine,” Captain Ross grunted. “Get that warrant ready. You’ll need it.”

* * *

Steve looked at the clock. It was almost two AM. He took another drag of his beer. He eyed the many texts from his colleagues and friends.

“Damnit,” he huffed, leaning back.

What a damn week.

Five days since the warrant was issued and sure, some shit was cleared up, but on the other hand…

Someone slid onto the barstool beside him.

He jumped a little.

“Barnes?” he blinked blearily.

“Hey,” Bucky said. He was wearing a nice leather jacket. It looked real soft. “You shouldn’t be drinking so much.”

“Pshht,” Steve hissed, “I do what I want.”

Barnes smiled a little. It was such a nice smile.

“Heard Pierce made a run for it,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Steve grumbled, peeling his beer label.

“How’d he know?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged, “Someone tipped him off. Turns out, _get this_ , our fucking Captain was being paid off nice and pretty by one of Pierce’s shell corporations. Fuck me, right?”

Bucky whistled. “Wow.”

“Goddamnit,” Steve sighed, dropping his head to the bartop. “It’s no wonder nobody trusts the police round here.”

He stayed like that for a while, wishing it would all just go away.

Barnes didn’t move.

When Steve did finally lift his head, he caught Barnes watching him.

“Clint’s out though,” he murmured, that voice a rumble through Steve. “Says you reminded him that he couldn’t have possibly smoked any of that weird drug shit.”

Steve smiled, “‘Cos he has asthma. I remember that from gym class. We shared inhalers sometimes.”

“And there was no evidence that he’d ever handled the product. turns out the boss that day had set him up, was being paid to by Pierce personally. Guy was too dumb to even hide it in Clint’s things. Just put it, like, nearby, then called the cops. Apparently evidence photography proved it.”

Steve smiled wider, “Yay…”

Bucky smirked. He wasn’t drinking. Why the fuck was he even here?

Steve sat up sraighter. “This is the cop bar, you know that, right?”

Bucky chuckled, “Damn right I know that. Took me forever to actually enter this hellhole. Figured you’d be in here.”

Steve blinked owlishly. “You were…looking for me?”

Bucky shrugged, “Yeah. thought you’d like to hear the news, is all.”

Steve stared at him, taking in the sight of a much older, more handsome version of the boy who lived down the street from him.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” he slurred a little. “Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky quirked a brow at him. “And I can’t believe the little squirt I knew grew into an idiot cop.”

“No, no,” Steve waved those words away. “You’re _Bucky Barnes_. You…you were my favourite.”

Barnes frowned, “huh?”

“Like,” Steve fumbled for the words. “I’m pretty sure I had the biggest crush on you back in High School.” Fuck, but if alcohol wasn’t the worst thing in the entire universe, Steve didn’t know what was. He was too drunk to care, though. “You were so handsome, and cool.”

Bucky was blushing and frowning at the same time. Random bursts of homosexual adoration could do that to unsuspecting heteros.

“Uh,” he looked aside, as if anyone could hear them. The place was basically empty. Then he turned back to Steve.

Yup, blushing.

_Cute._

“I…uh,” he cleared his throat, “I don’t … swing that way,” he said lowly. “Uh, sorry.”

Steve cocked a brow at him and leaned over. “You sure about that?” he leered. He licked his own lips slowly. Bucky’s eyes definitely tracked the movement of his tongue, like he couldn’t help it. “You absolutely sure?”

Bucky glanced up at him.

“Rogers,” he said gruffly. “I’m not gay.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Steve grinned. “I’m just wondering if, maybe, you like me though? You do stare a lot.”

Bucky scowled, “You stare a shitload more, pal. You think I didn’t notice?”

Steve was almost _proud_ of himself. “Yeah? You noticed?”

Bucky flushed some more and shifted on his stool. “Yeah,” he murmured.

Steve felt all warm and gooey inside. “Wanna come back to my place?” he said, the idea just blossoming in his mind.

Bucky blinked. “Like, for beer?”

Steve sucked his teeth. “Sure. Beer.”

Bucky eyed him, then pulled out his wallet, paying for Steve’s drinks. 

“You owe me, pal.”

And Steve just grinned wider.

 

* * *

He was kissing Bucky. Or Bucky was kissing him. Either way, it was _majestic._

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky groaned, “Why are you _like_ this?”

“Like what?” Steve huffed, falling back at the pressure of Bucky pushing into him. He slumped back on the lumpy sofa and shifted his hips, lifted his right leg up and around Bucky, so he could lean in properly and continue the kiss.

“Why are you still as annoying and fucking frustrating as you were when we were kids?” Bucky chewed out, doing as Steve hoped and clambered closer.

“Huh?” Steve asked, but was cut off when Bucky’s lips came crashing down on his again.

The leather jacket was gone…somewhere.

“You were… such a shit,” Bucky huffed, pulling back. “Always getting in trouble. Always fighting kids bigger’n you. I swear you had a death wish.”

“Mmmm,” Steve hummed, the alcohol still warming his brain nicely. 

“I’m not gay,” Bucky reiterated, even as he licked at Steve, ground his cock into Steve’s hip. 

“Shut up,” Steve huffed, “I’m trying to get fucked here.”

“Oh are you?” Bucky actually laughed, “I didn’t notice.”

“You ever done it with a guy?” Steve nipped at Bucky’s bottom lip.

Bucky paused, still close. He eyed Steve warily, those pale eyes just so beautiful even in the damn ugliness of his rental apartment. “Yeah…” he whispered. Steve barely caught it. Shame was a very heavy thing to deal with.

Well.

Steve wasn’t going to point out the obvious because … well, it was fucking obvious. Instead, he was going to drown himself in the fucking amazingness that was going down on his sofa.

 

* * *

“Oh God,” Steve panted, now on the bed. “You’re like, perfect.”

Bucky smirked down at him. He was shirtless, jeans open low, his cock just hanging there, all perfect and heavy. He had the _most_ amazing physique. Solid, rounded muscles, a thick torso, and those goddamn _arms._

Bucky licked his lips and crawled onto the bed again. Steve was so hard, he thought he was going to just _die_. Was this really happening? Was this an actual dream? Because Bucky Barnes was crawling over him.

Bucky bent down to nuzzle Steve’s pectorals, to lick his nipples. Probably the exact thing he’d do with a woman. Steve didn’t mind.

“Mmm,” Bucky hummed when Steve wriggled about under him. He felt heavy, and hot and clearly close to the edge.

“I would really like it if you’d fuck me,” Steve said earnestly. “But you don’t have to.”

Bucky groaned and dropped his forehead to Steve’s collarbone. “Stop it, you're driving me insane, Rogers.”

Steve blinked.

Bucky looked up at him. “It's weird. You're back all of a sudden. On one side I've got Romanov complaining about it and Clint’s bouncing off the walls and then _America’s_ talking smack about you. So I can't get away from the return of Steve Rogers. You know she only talks smack about people she likes, right?”

Steve couldn’t help smiling. “She likes me?”

“Eh,” Bucky shrugged, “You aren’t dead to her, is all.”

He scooted up Steve’s body, and Steve could feel Bucky’s dick sitting on his skin.

Bucky leaned in for a deep, languorous, spellbinding kiss. “Mm, Rogers,” he moaned softly. “Fuck.”

“Yes, please,” Steve nipped.

Bucky reared back and sat on his knees, hands on Steve’s thighs. He was breathing heavily, cock at attention.

“You just…” he grunted, then wiped at his hair, pushing it off his face like some kind of buff supermodel. “You just come back and I’m supposed to just … ignore you? Pretend you ain’t here? Jesus. I didn’t know you’d … we’d…”

He was clearly at a loss for words, the sentence trailing off into an anguished grunt.

Steve laid there for a moment. He watched Bucky run through his gamut of internal concerns.

“Hey,” he said softly, kneeing Bucky’s side. “It’s okay.”

Steve wiggled his hips a bit, his own dick flopping.

It caught Bucky’s eye, though, which … okay.

“If you’re on board…” Steve began. “Then we can go ahead. If not, it’s okay. We stop. We continue. Whatever. No strings attached.” and _hell_ , he couldn’t believe he just uttered those words. No strings? _No strings?_  Goddamnit! He wanted all the strings! He never wanted to let Bucky go!

Bucky seemed to think that over, his hand idly stroking Steve’s thigh. It was a few tense moments in which Steve told himself to wait and not jump in. Then, mind made up, Bucky leaned forward.

“All right, just this once,” he rumbled carefully.

A sigh gurgled up inside Steve just as Bucky’s hand wound its way round his dick.

 

* * *

“ _Haah_ ,” Steve panted, sweat pouring off him.

_Bucky Barnes_ was having sex with him.

It was a dream come true. Bucky was sliding in, his heavy cock more than enough to fill Steve up.

“Ugh,” Bucky grunted, lips hovering above Steve’s, while his hips pumped in harder each time. “Fuck, this is good.”

Steve nodded, shivering.

If this was going to be it, the one time, he was going to damn well remember every second. He could feel the stretch of Bucky inside him. The wetness of his own cock leaking onto his belly, the heavy weight of Bucky leaning into him.

“So good,” Bucky breathed, hitting home once more. “You okay?”

Steve nodded quickly, eyes wide. He was _so close_.

“Yeah?” Bucky caught onto that look and smiled. He shifted inside Steve and Steve let out a tiny whine. Bucky smiled wider and did it again. “No words?”

Steve shook his head and just licked his lips. “Fucking _hell,_ “ Bucky rumbled.

And boy, did he work Steve over. 

He pushed back harder, again and again until Steve knew he’d have hip-shaped bruises in his ass come morning.

Bucky moved faster suddenly, his hips snapping forward, his cock digging in deep and Steve felt his orgasm rushing in. He clawed at Bucky’s hips, pulling him in tighter. 

“Yes,” Steve huffed, “Right … there. _Bucky_.”

“Ugh,” Bucky grunted and pounded into Steve, making him shudder and come, just like that.

Steve’s hands held Bucky there, nails digging into Bucky's hips, holding him tight inside Steve.

“Rogers,” Bucky panted, “I want to come inside you.”

“Oh,” Steve groaned, “Jesus, yes.”

So Bucky pulled out, snapped the condom off,tied it neatly, and threw it over his shoulder like some kind of caveman. He leaned back in, dick twitching, and pushed inside Steve.

It made Steve’s breath catch, watching Bucky’s face.

Three hard, wet thrusts, and Bucky was coming, pressing his lips to Steve’s, panting his way through it.

 

* * *

 

Steve didn’t want Bucky to go.

But now that he was sobering up for real, the reality of their choices was as clear as day.

Bucky was pulling on his boots, already in his shirt and jeans. He’d barely said a thing.

“Hey,” Steve said, pulling on his own pyjamas. He padded over to Bucky, who was on the sofa. “You can stay the night if you want,” he murmured.

Bucky looked up.

God, he was so fucking handsome.

“Thanks, pal,” he said, “But I don’t wanna get murdered in my sleep.” Code words for : _No, booty call, no._

Steve scowled, “Okay, I get it, this place isn’t super awesome. You aren’t gonna get stabbed. I’m a cop, remember?”

Bucky sucked his teeth and got to his feet. “Not exactly a point in your favour.”

Steve watched Bucky pull on his leather jacket. 

Bucky definitely looked like he’d just gotten ass. It was infuriating. Was Steve jealous of _himself_? 

_God, get a grip, Rogers._

Bucky stood up. Steve sighed and went to the door to let him out. “You want me to call you an uber?”

Bucky frowned, “Uh, no thanks. I got this.”

Steve didn’t want to make it so obvious how much he was pining, again, but it was hard.

Bucky pushed at his hair, tucked it behind his ear. He glanced at Steve.

“Well,” Steve said. “Thanks ... I guess.” He sounded petulant to his own ears.

Bucky tugged at the hem of his jacket. “Uh, yeah. Same.”

“Guess we’ll never be doing this again, huh?” Steve huffed, opening the door. Bucky brushed past him. It was probably Steve’s imagination that Bucky had to touch him one last time.

Bucky turned, paused and said, “Probably not.” 

Steve deflated.

“But you never know,” Bucky  _winked_ and walked away, down the pathway, leaving Steve Rogers and his consternation behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Yas! Finally finished this up. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think, guys. 
> 
> also: not condoning Bucky's condom removal midway. Use grown-up logic, folks! Wrap it up! Also, yes, Bucky's super unsure sexually at this point. It's a real struggle.
> 
> Also: did anyone get The Dunes reference? From HBO's Insecure? lol my ideas are lame.


End file.
